Category: 2001

Fill Your Cruse with Oil

On By Peter WatkinsIn 2001Leave a comment

Dear Will:

How have you been? Here at our house we have been mostly busy and frazzled—business as usual, I’m afraid. I have this deep belief that we would all be better off if we found a way to heed Henry David Thoreau’s advice: “Simplify, simplify, simplify.” Of course, Henry had to go live like a hermit in the woods to pull that off. With neither the woods nor the means at my disposal, I remain content to simply read Walden and continue feeling frazzled. (By the way: If you’ve never read it, you ought to. It’s a true classic.)

Speaking of classics, I was sharing a Bible story with my children the other day and thought of you. We were talking about Elijah, one of the great characters of the scriptures. He first appears in First Kings, chapter 17, wherein he picks a pretty good fight with King Ahab. Right off, Elijah draws his line in the sand: “As the Lord God of Israel liveth,” he says, “there shall not be dew nor rain these years, but according to my word” (1 Kings 17:1). Then he sneaks off to live by a brook and be fed by ravens (how cool is that?).

The truly noteworthy part, however, is what comes next. The Lord sends Elijah to the town of Zeraphath, where he is to find a widow woman to take care of him. As you may recall, the unexpected twist of the story comes when Elijah finds the woman and asks for something to eat. She responds this way: “I have not a cake, but an handful of meal in a barrel, and a little oil in a cruse: and, behold, I am gathering two sticks, that I may go in and dress it for me and my son, that we may eat it, and die” (1 Kings 17:12).

Now comes the tricky part—the test of the woman’s faith. Says Elijah: “Fear not; go and do as thou hast said: but make me thereof a little cake first, and bring it unto me, and after make for thee and for thy son (1 Kings 17:13). Notice that Elijah didn’t say, “Could you make me one while you’re at it?” On the contrary, he asked the woman to feed him first before preparing the meal for herself and her son. Here’s why: “For thus saith the Lord,” declared Elijah, “The barrel of meal shall not waste, neither shall the cruse of oil fail, until the day that the Lord sendeth rain upon the earth. And she went and did according to the saying of Elijah: and she, and he, and her house, did eat for many days. And the barrel of meal wasted not, neither did the cruse of oil fail, according to the word of the Lord, which he spake by Elijah” (1 Kings 17:14-16).

The lesson of this story is simple, yet profound. The widow and all her house were blessed far beyond her simple act of faith, simply because she was willing to heed the counsel of the Prophet. Imagine how her story would have been different had she given a different, seemingly reasonable response such as this: “I’m sorry, but my child’s needs come first; you’ll have to ask someone else.” Read the concluding verses of the chapter and you’ll find out to what degree the woman was actually taking care of her child by showing faith in the Prophet’s counsel.

The main reason I bring all this up (besides the fact that it’s a great story) is that the Church’s semi-annual General Conference is coming up next week and I wanted to remind you of it. On Saturday, March 31, and Sunday, April 1, you can sit in the comfort of your own home and hear the counsel of a living Prophet, Gordon B. Hinckley. Sessions are typically broadcast on cable with sessions at 9 a.m. and 1 p.m. each day. Even if you have other stuff you have to do around the house, I encourage you to turn on the Conference and let it play in the background. It will bring a marvelous spirit into your home.

It will also give you a chance to listen to a Prophet of God and exercise your faith by heeding his word. Given the widow’s experience, it’s an almost irresistible opportunity. I know that it will be a blessing to our family, and I am looking forward to the chance. I hope you’ll take advantage of it too.

Best wishes to you and yours.

PW

Settling for a Tonka Truck

On By Peter WatkinsIn 2001Leave a comment

Dear Will:

Today we celebrated my son Seth’s second birthday. Throwing a party for two-year-olds is a little tricky since they are as likely to become interested in their shoelaces as in the activity of the moment. Recognizing that we would not have a whole lot of attention span to work with, my wife and I designed a lot of activities that could go start-to-finish in a few minutes and which could be abandoned without consequence should our constituents wander off to play under the kitchen table. We also had the good sense to invite just one other two-year-old to the party.

Everything pretty much went as expected. I felt a bit like a sheepdog from time to time, but for the most part the kids got into it.  (One piece of advice: Next time you’re entertaining two-year-olds, skip the piñata.) When it came time to open presents, you can probably guess what happened: After opening the first gift (a giant Tonka truck), Seth was pretty much done. We kept foisting other presents upon him, but we could easily have stopped after the truck and he would have been perfectly happy. There are still a half a dozen other presents remaining to be opened, but to be honest Seth really couldn’t care less.

His indifference is to be expected, I suppose, but I admit to feeling a little disappointed. We got him some really great stuff (a real Radio Flyer tricycle, for example) but he’s willing to settle for much less. Now I realize the guilty parties in this little tableau are the eager-to-spoil parents rather than the content-with-what-he-has toddler, but nevertheless it occurs to me that the whole thing is in a small way emblematic of a common, eternal phenomenon.

I’ve got a pretty good hunch that our Heavenly Father has a lot He would like to give us—in fact, we are probably incapable of conceiving the enormity of it. But His ability to give is constrained by our ability to receive. In the Book of Mormon we read:

For behold, thus saith the Lord God: I will give unto the children of men line upon line, precept upon precept, here a little and there a little; and blessed are those who hearken unto my precepts, and lend an ear unto my counsel, for they shall learn wisdom; for unto him that receiveth I will give more; and from them that shall say, We have enough, from them shall be taken away even that which they have.  (2 Nephi 28:30)

I wonder how often I have prevented God from blessing me because I have not taken full advantage of that with which he has previously blessed me. I fear that my indifference has deprived me of greater blessings. And I wonder to what degree my own lack of faith in this life may prevent Him from bestowing upon me the unfathomable blessings of eternity that He has promised “those who love Him.”

I’d hate to settle for the Tonka truck when He is prepared to give me a Radio Flyer—if you know what I mean. It may be a lame analogy, but it seems relevant to me, especially as I consider how easily distracted I become in pursuit of my spiritual goals. I guess in the eternal scheme I’m the two-year-old, and I’m hoping that you’re more grown up than I. Here’s hoping, in any case, that you’re quick to acknowledge the ways in which God has blessed you, and that He may bless you much more in the months to come.

PW

Saving You a Seat

On By Peter WatkinsIn 2001Leave a comment

Dear Will:

As I write this, I’m on Alaska Airlines flight 352, returning to Orange County after a fly-in-fly-out business trip to Portland (such trips are my favorites: maximum mileage but still home in time to tuck in the kids). I’m trying to remember how I survived without a laptop computer, and it’s a little fuzzy to me.

It occurs to me that, strange as it is, for all I know you could be seated beside me there in seat 12C. You could have been the person in front of me at the grocery store on Saturday (I’m easy to spot: I’m the guy with the cookie-faced two-year-old and seven gallons of milk). We’re neighbors, and yet we don’t know each other. We’re strangers, and yet we share a common bond. The notion prompts a couple of thoughts:

“We’re neighbors.” Jesus taught that anyone who needs our help is our neighbor (remember the Good Samaritan?). The lesson of that story is that, as children of God, we should reach out to one another in times of need, pausing to help regardless of the differences, either real or imagined, which may separate us. The tale reminds us of our common bond as children of God.

“We’re strangers.” This last Sunday we dedicated our sacrament service to that scripture in Ephesians that says something like (I’ll get this wrong, but you’ll get the idea): “Therefore are ye neither strangers nor foreigners, but fellowcitizens with the saints and of the household of God.” Paul’s point was that, no matter how our backgrounds or ancestry may differ, our faith in Christ joins us as if we were countrymen. It is a powerful metaphor, reminding us as it does that we are all in this together.

This note is intended simply to reiterate that, as your neighbor, I offer you my help. And as your fellowcitizen in Christ, I pledge to you my friendship.  Call me some time if you feel like it. And let me know next time you’re flying to or from Portland and I’ll save you a seat.

PW